Poker Friday night had me driving home around midnight in the snow. I packed up the car, and settled in for a meager 3.5 hours of sleep. Waking up at 4am, I peered outside. 1inch of snow on the ground, and still falling.. Undaunted I pulled on my clothes and for good measure supplemented the flask of Macallan with the bottle. "In case we get stuck somewhere" I told myself.
I picked up the boys in Bellevue, and we departed about 5am. We hit snow again in Northbend, and wouldn't see pavement until the drive home that night. We arrived at RF with the car thermometer reading 15 degrees. As far as we could tell 6-8" of new snow had fallen, and drifted to 12" in places. It was our first time there and we were working off of notes from friends, so we were eager to survey the water for ourselves. One of my compadres had never fly-fished before, so I made him promise not to set any opinions or expectations for this cold, snowy, nymph-and-streamer, trip.
With the newbie in tow we broke trail to the river side, and rolled into one of the many clearings in the reeds. I immediately started to point out what to look for. pointing to rocks mid-channel, and explaining trouts habits, and where they like to sit, especially when its cold. As Im pointing far away, saying, "We will be targeting the deeper pools, because there wont be many fish in the shallows since its so cold." not more than 3 seconds after finishing that statement, something at my feet caught my attention. 12 inches off the bank, I was looking down at the black back of a Rainbow that must of have been 18-20 inches long (Probably bigger, but Im trying to keep myself honest). It caught me so off guard, it made me jump a little. We froze immediately (no pun intended) and just watched. I started to slowly back off and as I tried to get my fly (started with a black wooley) in position. I did the obvious thing, Yep, dropped that big fly right on his head, and he bolted for the middle. As I talked him through some basics of casting we noticed large fish finning all over the river. In the shallows, in the deeper sections, it was an amazing sight. I would scare 4 big trout off the bank this day in total by lumbering noisily through the snow to the waters edge. (I never learned my lesson)
We started by tossing streamers, mainly to keep warm. A few hours passed with no bumps or action. We switched up to nymphs and scuds, but no luck as well. I decided to go big and ugly again, and started throwing marabou and bunny leeches. Finally after at about 11am the first hit. "Whoa.." It was a single powerful yank and I swung the rod tip downstream. It was on. A very nice, very dark 18 or so inch Rainbow graced me with a few leaps and head shakes. It was the only fish landed that day, with a couple of nice hits in the afternoon, all on leeches. (Brown and Black)
After getting back to the car, I started to really notice how cold it was. With the heater running full-blast, we were maybe 3 miles past Ephrata before my ears and fingers started to hurt, meaning they were just then starting to thaw out. it was a monumentally cold day.
Saw 6 or so other anglers, only saw one other fish caught. I Didnt get a chance to chat with them though.
Ill be back this winter, it was a good day all-in-all. Certainly a new experience for me.
BP
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At 09:15 AM 1/5/2005, you wrote:
Ive finally rally'd the troops to spend a day this saturday. We are still debating the destination (suggestions?). Ill post a report when we are back. So far Rocky Ford seems to be the destination of choice.
As we geared up under the clear blue dawn standing in the snow at the south parking lot at Rocky Ford, Les and I both glumly contemplated how foolish we were to even be there. The time and temp sign in front of a bank in Ephrata indicated 19� at 7am. The flag was standing straight out from its pole, pointing due south like a cloth weathervane in the gale force wind blowing straight out of the Arctic.
Once on the water and walking stiffly in all our layers, the wind chill was well below zero, numbing our fingertips and noses, freezing our guides, whipping our lines in random directions and landing every other cast in the reeds or weeds.
In short, yesterday at the Ford was tough fishing at best and made the proverbial witch's tit seem warm and inviting by comparison.
The good news is that we had the place to ourselves until two other fools showed up about 3pm. I christened my new 1973 Orvis Limestone Special bamboo rod by landing fish of 24 and 19 inches and SDRing another of 18-20 inches after a several-minute struggle. All my fish came in the morning with only a few brief hook-ups after 11am.
But the best news is that we were off the water and heading for home while it was still light.
K
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